Familiar, and yet so different this time

We're expecting! I'm still working through the tail end of the nausea, but I see light at the end of the tunnel. He/she is slated to arrive the first week of April in the middle of General Conference and Easter Sunday. I, personally, am hoping for a slightly early arrival like Alice managed to pull off. Unfortunately, this pregnancy has already proved quite a bit different from Alice's, so I can't allow myself to hope for that TOO openly.

I find myself with a few more mixed feelings this time around. I'm worried about how the whole sibling thing works out. I wonder how my love and life will expand to meet the needs of this new little person. I've seen it done, yes, but I've never done it myself. I wonder how well I will navigate the choices (i.e. sacrifices) that I will need to make to accommodate this growing family.

It took us a year to get pregnant this time. That whole year, I was pleading for the opportunity to have another child. And when I realized it had finally happened, fear crept in. I'm a teeny bit wiser of a mother than I was before Alice was born. I have a better idea of how much this little baby will change my universe for the first few months. I wonder if this baby will kick the tar out of me as badly as Alice did. I remember how hard I fell in love with that baby, how she crowded out everything and everyone else in the universe, how I lived and breathed according to her needs, and how that made me go crazy for a little while. Heck, I'm still a little obsessed with her, to be completely honest ;)

This baby will develop at lightning speed now that there's a peer to emulate. I wonder if I will be able to love their differences without comparing them to each other all the time. I wonder if they'll even get along...they'll be pretty far apart, but not far enough to avoid the bulk of that sibling rivalry baggage that we all drag into adulthood. Perhaps "baggage" is too strong a word. It's actually a very valuable experience. I grew up the 8th of 9 kids, and I loved that position in my family. I still do, actually. It's a wonderful view from way down here, learning from others' experiences long before I am asked to make those choices myself. And all those struggles I wrote about in my childhood journal (the ones in red capital letters are the most passionate) actually helped me become a better adult. That friction early on has shaped me into a better woman. I really believe that, which is why I wanted more than one child so desperately.

Perhaps being 2nd isn't so bad in the long run. It's clear that #2 will not grow up as Alice has. It's clear that Alice will no longer grow up as she has, either. They will now grow together. I can't try to treat them as two only children. Perhaps a more realistic goal for me as the mom is to mediate their growth and interdependence as a family, accepting the truth that all are capable of finding a unique and loved place in the group.

That is certainly a less guilt-ridden goal, and probably even attainable with an incredible amount of work and love and patience and all those wonderful things I learned from my siblings growing up :)